Our feet shuffle back and forth, never truly leaving one spot—our spot. Her breathing seems to match mine in a slow and steady stream similar to our feet. I forgot how good I feel with her by me. How she brings out such a different Dex than others see. I’ve never put anyone in front of my own needs or wants … except for Chrissy. She’s the one who I’d give my last piece of food or clothing to if she needed it. But she’s so alone, and I’ve been such a shitty friend. Now that we’ve gotten older, we don’t have to go to the Saturday betting. Sports, school, and my friends have taken up all my time. As the word one continues to flow from the speakers, I can’t help but think Chrissy’s mine—my one.

When the song begins to fade, her head comes back and we’re forced back to reality.. Staring down at Chrissy, I wish I had the guts to tell her everything I just felt. If we could only stay in this moment forever. Her eyes peer up at me proclaiming the same thought. Then my arm is torn away from her and the last thing I see is her eyes widen in fear.

“Dex!” Tori screams, and I close my own eyes, wishing I would have remembered she was here, or, better yet, never had invited her. “What the hell?”

“Tori,” I address her, hoping like hell I can think of something. Chrissy could be my cousin, maybe that will work.

Tori’s eyes narrow at Chrissy, who begins to step back from the escalating situation. Shit, Tori is known to be the meanest bitch at the school, and I fear she’ll unleash a stream of venom on Chrissy if I don’t diffuse this immediately. When Bree comes over and stands next to her best friend, her eyes now focused on Chrissy as well, she’s no doubt ready to join in the cat fight if she needs to.

Glancing back, I find Chrissy’s widened eyes and her teeth biting into her lip. Clearly, she’s getting ready to bolt. Wondering if it would be better for everyone if she did, I contemplate the cousin thing again, but I’m not sure that will fly.

“Well … DEX!” Tori demands again, her heel slamming into the floor.

“This is Chrissy.” I reach back and grab her hand. She stumbles forward, but when Tori’s eye’s land on our entwined fingers, she pulls it back. “My friend.” Didn’t Mom always say honesty is best?

“Friends?” Tori questions, cocking her head to the side.

“Yes, friends,” I answer, and Chrissy remains silent.

“Are you guys really just friends?” she asks Chrissy directly, and Chrissy nods.

“Yes, I’ve known him since we were young,” she adds. I’m pretty certain we both know whatever anyone witnessed did not resemble friends.

“All right then.” Tori looks around the room. “Leo!” she screams to my friend and teammate. The big, burly guy comes over, unsure what exactly is going on.

Tori grabs him and smacks her lips against his. Leo is shocked and confused, his bulging eyes peer my way while Tori tries to entice him to deepen the kiss. Eventually, not getting anywhere, she backs away. “Is that friendship?” Tori sarcastically asks, and I wish there was one ounce of jealousy from that act. Maybe then it would mean I’d feel guilt over what I did with Chrissy.

“You think kissing my friend is going to prove some point? I don’t play games, Tori,” I seethe, stepping up, grabbing Chrissy’s hand again. “We are friends, I’m not lying. If we were more, you would have seen something more like this.” I grab Chrissy and my lips land on hers. Holding her up, she’s rigid as a board at first, but the more my lips remain on hers, she slowly eases and eventually joins the kiss. Our lips stay on the other’s for a few seconds while my stomach inflates with butterflies and my dick hardens. Once we separate from our own bubble, Chrissy inhales a deep breath, and I snap back to the reason I kissed Chrissy in the first place. “Don’t play games you can’t win,” I remark, and she runs off the floor and around the side of the house with Bree right behind her.

Chrissy gasps, and my vision leaves the departing Tori to a displeased Chrissy. “Don’t you think that was kind of cruel?” she asks.

“No, she fucking kissed my friend.”

“Yeah, but—”

“I was done with her anyway,” I inform Chrissy, but she only steps back.

“Was I just a pawn in your game?” she asks, and I can’t believe I’m hearing those words. Didn’t she feel what I did during that dance?

“No,” I honestly tell her, and she stands there, her eyes peering around the room.

“That’s not what it felt like, Dex.” She begins to turn around.

“Don’t you dare leave,” I demand, and she whips her head around.

“Do you think you have any control over what I do?” she asks, her high heels click and stop when the toes touch mine. “Just because you think you’re better than me for some reason. Money doesn’t make someone better.”

“You know I don’t feel that way,” I counter, knowing what she’s insinuating.

“Well, I don’t want to be friends with someone who treats others like that,” she says, pointing to the side of the house where Tori disappeared.

“Seriously? You know me, Chrissy,” I argue back and anger turns to hurt.

Without saying another word, she spins around, the strands of her hair hitting my chest. I watch her say goodbye to my mom, who has her own silent conversation with me across the room. My vision never wavers from Chrissy. When she gets to the back door and her hand clasps onto the knob, she glances over her shoulder. For the first time in five minutes, I turn away from her. When I finally get the nerve to look again, she’s gone.

16 years old

Dex: I’m sorry.

Chrissy: For?

Dex: Come on. It was an imbecile moment.

Chrissy: For?

Dex: For being an asshole.

Chrissy: And?

Dex: You can’t be serious?

Chrissy: Yes I can and I am.

Dex: Insensitive?

Chrissy: On the right track.

Dex: Prick? Jackass? Dufus? Moron? Dork? Should I go on??

Chrissy: I think you about covered them. LOL…Now what are you going to do to make it up to me?

Dex: Dinner?

Chrissy: Hmm…

Dex: What?

Chrissy: Debating if I should make you beg…

Dex: PLEASE Chrissy, let me take you to dinner to make up for being an insensitive prick at my mom’s wedding.

Chrissy: Well…

Chrissy: Okay. Sunday at six.

Dex: Sunday at two. We’re going somewhere first. I’ll pick you up.

Chrissy: Sunday at three.

Dex: Do you always have to have the last say?

Chrissy: Yep.

Dex: Fine, I’ll see you Sunday at three.

Chrissy: See you then.

TWO-THIRTY AND there’s a knock on my door. Damn Dex and making a smartass point to me about him not allowing me to have complete say. Since I won’t be able to meet him downstairs like I had planned, I grab my purse from the table and slither through the door, quickly shutting it behind me.

“I guess I won’t come in then?” he asks rhetorically, chuckling to himself.

Giving a tight smile across my shoulder, I lock the door and turn around. “I was going to meet you downstairs at three o’clock,” I say, raising my eyebrows only enticing more laughter out of him.

“Yeah, well, I compromised.” He chuckles and then waits for me to lead the way down the hall.

“I swear, Dex,” I comment, not finishing because Dex is Dex, and even his most annoying habits I wouldn’t want to change.

Once we get downstairs, passing a zillion kids that run the halls every day with no parental supervision, Dex’s FJ Cruiser sits outside. It’s new and nice in that new graphite color that’s so popular. Not that there are a ton of brand new cars around my neighborhood. Being a gentleman, he opens the door for me and I step in, allowing him to shut it behind me. As he walks around, my heart flutters from being treated like a real date.